


Hard As Valyrian Steel

by The_Jade_Samurai



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, F/M, I fucking love Harry Potter/ASOIAF crossover thingies, Jon and the Starks Are Not Related, Jon has PTSD, Like really slow, Lyanna is not a Stark, Not a Crossover, R plus L equals J, Sad!Jon, Slow Burn Jon Snow/Sansa Stark
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-28
Updated: 2017-10-02
Packaged: 2018-12-20 23:38:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11931735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Jade_Samurai/pseuds/The_Jade_Samurai
Summary: Jon Snow disappeared after the murder of his mother for two years. In that time, the Night King, the latest Dark Lord and the most evil wizard since the Mad King, has begun terrorising the wizarding world and Muggles alike.When Jon returns to Hogwarts for his final year, he is a very different person from what the Starks remember.Sansa is determined to bring Jon back into the light after fighting the darkness for so long, but will she be enough to save him? Meanwhile, Jon's father attempts to reach out to him, the undead march on the living and war is spreading.Can the Wizarding World find their saviour before it's too late?





	1. The Lost Boy Returns

**Author's Note:**

> Hello guys and welcome to another Jon/Sansa story! This one is set in the wonderful world of Harry Potter, but it will NOT be a crossover. It was an idea that has been stuck in my brain for a long time now and I just HAD to get it out.
> 
> This is just a little thing to help you guys.
> 
> Jon- 17, Gryffindor  
> Robb- 17, Gryffindor  
> Sansa- 16, Ravenclaw  
> Arya- 14, Gryffindor  
> Bran- 13, Ravenclaw  
> Rickon- 11, Gryffindor
> 
> Joffrey- 16, Slytherin  
> Daenerys- 17, Slytherin  
> Sam- 17, Hufflepuff  
> Theon- 17, Slytherin  
> Margaery- 16, Slytherin  
> Loras- 16, Hufflepuff  
> Jeyne Westerling- 16, Ravenclaw  
> Ygritte- 17, Gryffindor

**Prologue**

The dirt was levitated over her grave by Ned, before it was gently lowered to cover Mother’s coffin. Jon Snow, the last of his family, stood stoically in the rain. He did not move, and the only signs that he wasn’t a statue were the tears streaming down his eyes and his hair the whipped around his face. He wore a black suit underneath a black trench coat. Underneath the trench coat he wore peeked a white wolf’s head pommel.

The Valyrian steel bastard sword, Longclaw, was the only possession his mother possessed that was actually of any worth.

His mother, Lyanna Snow. Murdered by a hooded figure with eyes of such a vivid colour of blue they practically glowed like ice under the moonlight. Jon’s vision was taken back to that night a week ago.

School was done for the year, and Jon was ready to go on a tour to France with Mother, only to come home from Hogwarts to find his mother engaged in a duel with the hooded man. Lyanna had told him to run, before she sliced a Killing Curse in half with Longclaw. Unfortunately she could not react in time to avoid the spear made of ice and it had pierced her chest. The hooded man had Apparated away while Jon held Mother in his arms, as her life bled out of her.

Jon closed his eyes to fight away the dark memory of his mother’s murder. He did not even acknowledge Robb and Sam standing on either side of him, nor the words of comfort that were offered to him. His only thought was on finding whoever had killed Mother.

“You can stay with us back at Winterfell for the summer,” said Robb. “Mum and Dad don’t want you to be alone for the summer I think.”

Jon only nodded to appease his best friend, despite having already decided that he would not be going home, whether that was Winterfell or his house. He was definitely not going back home, there were too many memories there that he could handle at this time. Winterfell did sound like a good idea, but his path did not belong with the Starks.

“... We’re going to watch the Quidditch World Cup in Ireland as well. Dad was able to get a ticket for you as well,” continued Robb, and Jon nodded his head numbly.

“Jon?” said a new voice, and Jon looked to see Ned standing to the side with such pain in his eyes that it nearly broke Jon’s heart to have to do what he was about to do to the Starks.

Ned and Lyanna were best friends growing up. Both were in Gryffindor in the same year, and it was Ned who introduced Lyanna, a Muggleborn, into the Wizarding World. Of course, it was discovered that Lyanna Snow had magical ancestors, and the Valyrian steel sword she inherited was a family heirloom that had been passed down for thousands of years. Ned was the one who took Lyanna in when she fell pregnant with Jon, and she had been called ‘Aunt Lyanna’ by all the Stark children.

“We’ll find whoever did this to her,” promised Ned, “I’ve got men already investigating it. I even contacted the Night’s Watch for help, but they’ve yet to respond to my owl.”

“Thank you,” choked out Jon, and with a pat on Jon’s shoulder, Ned walked away to talk to Cat.

Nearby, Jon could see Sansa, Arya, Bran and Rickon looking at him as though they wanted to talk to him, probably to offer their condolences.

“Can you buy me some time? I just need a minute,” said Jon to Robb, and the red-haired boy nodded his head before going to face his younger siblings.

While Robb was busy distracting the others, Jon slinked away from the funeral procession and disappeared behind some trees. Once he was certain that no one could see him, Jon pulled out the paperclip in his pocket and held it out in his palm.

“I’m sorry,” whispered Jon. The paperclip glowed a faint blue colour before it flashed brightly, and Jon disappeared from the graveyard.

* * *

 

**Two years later...**

* * *

 

**SANSA**

Platform nine and three-quarters was filled with parents and kids as they said their goodbyes when the Starks arrived. Sansa grunted when Arya collided into her back and nearly toppled her trunk over. Corn, the black family owl, hooted indignantly at being jostled in her cage when she was trying to sleep, and Sansa sent her younger sister a withering look.

“Remember to write often,” said Mum, pulling Rickon into one of those bear hugs she was famous for.

“Mum,” groaned Rickon and he struggled to get free of Mum’s grip, but the Lady of Winterfell held on tightly.

“Let your mother hug you,” said Dad, his face as stoney as ever, but his dark grey eyes were alight with amusement. “You’re the last Stark in our family.”

“Wish Uncle Benjen would hurry up and get married,” grumbled Rickon. “I wouldn’t be the youngest Stark then.”

Robb, Arya and Bran burst into laughter, while Sansa merely grinned and gave her father a hug.

“Be careful,” said Dad into Sansa’s hair.

“Dad, the Night King isn’t going to get into Hogwarts,” drawled Sansa.

“I know, but a lot of his followers’ children go to school with you,” said Dad, giving the crowd a wary look.

“I’ll make sure Robb and Arya don’t kill anyone,” she promised. When she looked at her siblings, she added, “And Rickon too, just for good measure.”

Dad chuckled and pushed Sansa over to Mum, who engulfed her in a hug. After that, Sansa grabbed her trunk, Corn’s cage and lugged it into the train. She spotted Jeyne and waved out to her, and when her best friend came over they picked out a spare compartment and packed their cases away.

“How was your summer?” asked Sansa.

“Oh, you know. Nothing much really,” said Jeyne. “We went to France to escape the whole war for a bit, so we only just got back to England yesterday.”

Sansa winced. Two years ago, the Night King had turned up out of nowhere and declared war on the living. He was a powerful necromancer who brought everyone he killed back from the dead, and he was quickly gaining a lot of support. Dad, being the head of the Auror Department, was often fighting on the front lines, along with Uncle Benjen and many of the parents of Sansa’s friends.

“Well, I’m glad your family was out of the way for a little bit,” said Sansa, offering her best friend a warm smile.

“Thanks,” said Jeyne. “What about you? How was your summer?”

“Boring,” admitted Sansa. “Dad wouldn’t let us out of Winterfell for the whole break. Even Mum was getting frustrated with all of us.”

“At least you were all safe as well,” pointed out Jeyne.

 _Not all of us,_ thought Sansa glumly, thinking of her father and uncle. Their conversation turned to more lighthearted topics while the Hogwarts Express finally lurched forward on its way to Hogwarts.

After about half an hour of catching up, Sansa stood up and told Jeyne that she had to go find her family. Jeyne waved off her apology however, and pulled out a copy of the _Daily Prophet._

Sansa exited their compartment and headed towards the back, where Robb and Arya usually hung out. Unfortunately, her ex-boyfriend Joffrey Baratheon was blocking the hallway and coming towards her, but he hadn’t spotted her yet.

 _Shit. Shit shit shit fuck fuck shit fuck fuck_. Sansa did not want to be seeing Joffrey right now, especially with how messy and horrible their breakup had been. So Sansa quickly opened the compartment door and shut it, then pressed her ear to the door. When she heard Joffrey’s voice drift further away until she couldn’t hear it anymore, she let out a deep sigh of relief.

“Sansa?” said a voice from within the compartment. Sansa shrieked and jumped, twirling around to face her sudden visitor. She was greeted by the sight of a young man dressed completely in black. His raven curls hung down to his shoulders, and he had a thick, unkempt dark beard as well. His left eye had a long, thin scar running down from the top of his brow down to his cheek, and his right eye had another, thicker scar shaped in a crescent. It was his eyes, however, were what drew Sansa’s attention. They were dark, almost black, but she could see that they were actually grey, and so full of sorrow it startled her. They were also very familiar. It was the white wolf’s head pommel on the sword that lay across the young man’s lap that made Sansa realise who she was staring at.

“Jon?” she said, almost questioningly.

“Aye, it’s me Sans,” replied Jon, and the corners of his mouth twitched upwards and he stood up, placing the sword and the whetstone he was holding down on the seat.

Without another thought, Sansa launched herself at Jon, and the dark-haired boy barely had time to catch her before her arms wrapped around his shoulders tightly. Sansa felt Jon’s arms wrap around her waist, and she buried her neck into the crook of his neck. She could feel tears spilling down her cheeks and drop into Jon’s shoulder, but he did not seem to mind. He smelled like pine needles and moss, with a hint of something uniquely Jon, and it smelled like home.

When she pulled away, Sansa looked him up and down. He would have been seventeen by now, seeing as when he disappeared he was fifteen, but he looked more like a man than a teenager, with his beard, long curly hair and sullen face. She also felt hard muscle underneath his clothes when she embraced him.

“How are you? Where have you been? What are you doing here?” she rattled off.

“I’m doing well, been here a little, there a little and I’m obviously on my way to Hogwarts,” said Jon, answering all three of Sansa’s questions.

“Here a little, there a little?” repeated Sansa, and she saw the way that Jon’s face dropped.

“I haven’t been up to much, really,” he said quietly.

“Those scars on your face weren’t there the last time I saw you,” pointed out Sansa.

“I’ve been busy.” “You just said-”

“I don’t want to talk about it just yet. Maybe another time,” interrupted Jon. “Now, why were you hiding in here?”

“Uhhh...” said Sansa. Jon didn’t know about Joffrey, and all the horrible things he did to her when they dated. “I saw somebody I didn’t want to talk to.” Jon raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything more. Sansa suddenly gasped. “Holy crap! You’re back! Robb and Arya and Bran and Rickon will be so happy to see you again!” she exclaimed.

“They will?” said Jon incredulously.

 _Well, maybe not Robb, but he’ll come around,_ thought Sansa. “Of course they will. Come, I was just about to go find them!”

Jon shrugged and sheathed the sword he had been sharpening before strapping the belt to his waist, and Sansa only just realised then that it was made of Valyrian steel. She put that thought aside and grabbed Jon’s hand, then practically pulled him out of his compartment and continued on her way to the back. They found Arya with Bran and she cleared her throat to get their attention away from the game of Exploding Snap they were playing.

“Look who I found,” said Sansa happily, and stepped to the side to reveal Jon. Arya squealed and leapt into Jon’s arms similar to how Sansa had before, and Bran did the same as soon as Arya let go, and they were quickly rattling off questions about where he had been. As he was with Sansa, his answers were vague, but he was quickly asking questions of his own. Arya told him all about how she had made Seeker for the Gryffindor Quidditch team, how she had taken up fencing lessons back home, while Bran explained about his academic achievements.

“No seriously, where have you been, and what’s up with the sword?” persisted Arya, and Sansa shot her younger sister a glare. Jon opened his mouth to speak, but suddenly the compartment door opened and Robb stepped in, looking tired and annoyed.

“You would not believe the idiocy of-” started Robb, but he stopped speaking when he saw Jon. Jon stood up and shook his hands out to the side nervously, and Sansa watched Robb’s jaw tighten, a sure sign of his rising temper.

“Er, hey Robb,” said Jon awkwardly. Robb said nothing, so Jon continued. “I’m sorry for leaving-”

 _CRACK!_ Jon was suddenly stumbling backwards, and Sansa gasped in horror to see Robb’s fist still hanging in the air from where it had collided with Jon’s jaw. Arya swore loudly while Bran caught Jon from falling over, and Sansa turned to see Robb seething with rage.

“Two years. Two fucking years you’ve been gone and you show up like nothing happened?” growled Robb.

“Robb I-”

“Did you know that Mum cried herself to sleep every night for three whole months because nobody could find you?! You were like another son to her!”

“Robb that’s enough,” warned Arya.

“No he’s right,” said Jon, pulling his hand away from his jaw to reveal a reddening welt blooming from underneath his beard.

“You’re fucking right I’m right! You abandoned us! No letters or any sign that you were even alive! Why the hell did you leave us mate!”

“My mother was murdered,” said Jon.

“What? You decided to go find her killer yourself?” scoffed Robb.

“Robb!” hissed Sansa.

Jon said nothing, but the cold look in his eyes startled Sansa and, admittedly it scared the shit out of her as well. Robb even took a step back, his eyes widening in fright. Jon brushed himself off then and gave everyone an apologetic look.

“I’m sorry for ruining everything,” he said sadly, and he walked past Robb and left the compartment. Everyone turned to death stare Robb and he gave them an angry look.

“What?” he demanded.

“You shouldn’t have accused him of all that stuff,” said Bran.

“He deserved it!” argued Robb.

“He was hurting from his mother’s death!” snapped Arya.

“But-”

“How would you like it if your only family died right in front of you huh?” scolded Sansa. “You go out there and you bring your best friend back right now. He’s probably been alone these past two years and as soon as he finds his best friends you turn him away!”

“I... fuck,” muttered Robb, and he shook his head before bolting out of the compartment after Jon.

“Fucking idiot,” grumbled Arya.

Sansa did not even bother to pull up Arya on her language, because she was thinking the exact same thing about her older brother.

Robb came back a couple minutes later with a crestfallen expression, and no Jon.

“Where is he?” snapped Arya.

“He put some sort of charm on his compartment. I couldn’t open it,” said Robb.

“Well you’re a complete arse aren’t you?”

“Enough Arya,” said Bran. Arya huffed, but did not continue insulting the eldest Stark child. Robb sank down on the seat next to Sansa and hunched over, burying his face in his hands.

"Did you guys see his sword??" said Arya suddenly.

“What sword?” asked Robb.

"The one strapped around his waist you git."

"Oh."

“I think it was the one his mother gave him," said Bran.

Robb looked up in surprise. “Longclaw? He brought a Valyrian steel sword with him to Hogwarts?”

“Is that even allowed?” said Bran.

“I don’t think so,” said Sansa. “But he has it with him.”

“I’m going to go find him,” said Arya. Sansa grabbed Arya’s arm though and held her back.

“I don’t think Jon wants to see any of us right now,” she warned.

“Don’t be stupid, of course he wants to see us,” scoffed Arya.

“He did run away for two years,” Bran pointed out.

“Yeah but he’s back now, isn’t he?” said Arya.

“Just in time for his final year of Hogwarts too,” muttered Robb. “Why would he come back now?”

“To finish his education?” suggested Arya.

“That charm he put on his door is beyond N.E.W.T. level spellwork,” said Robb. “I couldn’t get anything to work against it.”

“You clearly didn’t try hard enough,” spat Arya.

“Please no more fighting,” said Bran wearily.

“Whatever the reason, I don’t think Jon plans on sharing it with us for a while,” continued Robb as though Arya and Bran hadn’t just interrupted him.

“If he decides to talk to us again,” said Arya.

**JON**

Jon avoided the Starks for the rest of the train ride, locking his compartment door with a complex charm Edd Tollett had taught him. He sat back down in his seat, unsheathed Longclaw, grabbed the whetstone and continued to sharpen it as he had been doing before Sansa found him. Valyrian steel did not need sharpening, as the blade was forged in dragon fire and imbued with ancient spells long forgotten that made the blade impervious to time and wear and tear. But the mere action of running a cloth or whetstone was a way for Jon to meditate and think on things.

Jon was surprised to see Sansa after such a long time, and the changes she had undergone had made it hard for Jon to recognise her. The last time he had seen her, Sansa was fourteen years old and only just starting to look like a woman. Now, she had grown into a young woman whose beauty had stunned Jon into silence for a brief moment.

The other Starks had grown up as well. Arya no longer looked like a tomboy with short hair. Of course, she still seemed to prefer boy’s clothes, but her hair had grown down to her shoulders and was starting to become a young woman. Bran had shot up and was tall and lanky and his hair was longer too. Robb looked like a man, solidly built with a bit of scruff on his face from not shaving.

His reunion with them could have gone a lot better, but Robb’s reaction was justified. Jon had all but abandoned the closest thing he had ever had to a family outside of his mother, without so much as a goodbye or an explanation. For all they could have known he was dead.

The sound and rhythm of running the whetstone over Longclaw eventually made Jon weary, and he closed his eyes.

_The snow was blowing sideways and the wind bit into Jon’s skin like icy teeth, despite the warming charm he had placed on himself earlier and the thick furs he wore. In his left hand he held his wand, and in his right was Longclaw. Beside him, Mance Rayder was clutching his wand tightly. “_

 

_We should never have come here,” shouted Mance over the howling wind. He pointed his wand up into the air and fired off green sparks into the air, and Jon prayed that the other ranging party could see it._

_The enemy thrived in the cold, and it had been foolish to go out during a blizzard. The two wizards could see shadows moving in the near distance, flickering in and out of sight before Jon could get a better look at them._

_“We’re surrounded,” said Jon. He moved so that he was back to back with Mance, their wands pointed ahead of them._

_A raspy screech carried in the wind, and suddenly a skeletal creature with glowing blue eyes was running towards him. Jon cut it down with Longclaw, and before it could get back up, he shouted “Incendio!” burning the undead monster._

_He turned his head to see Mance setting another wight on fire while stabbing another with his obsidian dagger, and Jon killed another wight._

_“Where are the others?!” yelled Jon, ducking to avoid a swing of an axe from a wight, then sent it flying with a Bludgeoning curse._

_“They should be here soon!” answered Mance. Jon and Mance kept on fighting wave after wave until their muscles were sore and their energy drained._

_Suddenly Mance screamed and Jon looked back to see an arrow made of ice sticking out of his chest, blood spurting out of his mouth like a sickly fountain._

_“Mance!” screamed Jon as his mentor fell to the ground. “Forgive me. Incendio!” Mance’s body set fire, and as the wind slowed down slightly and Jon could see further, he spotted a being riding atop of a rotting horse, surrounded by dozens more wights. Its cold, piercing blue eyes flickered over to stare at Jon, before it let out a terrifying shriek and the undead charged at him._

Jon was jolted from his sleep, panting and sweating, when the train suddenly slowed down. Longclaw lay on the floor, having been dropped when Jon fell asleep. He picked it up and sheathed it in its scabbard before looking out of his window. He could see the lights of Hogsmeade coming closer, and in the far distance Hogwarts itself.

Jon shook his head to wipe away the horrifying memories, and he grabbed his trunk. Opening it, he pulled out his school robes and tossed Longclaw into it, then got dressed quickly. The train eventually slowed to a stop, and Jon could hear students moving outside. He lifted the charm locking his compartment and stepped into the crowd of students, blending in so that nobody would take notice of him.

He spotted Sansa, Bran and Arya looking around expectantly, and Jon ducked his head so that they could not see him and headed over to the carriages. He waited until the three Stark kids gave up on their search for him and hopped into a carriage together.

Once he was sure they had gone, Jon hopped into a carriage with a chattering group of second-years and sat silently until the carriage stopped. He was the first to hop out, and he affectionately patted the neck of the thestral that pulled them, ignoring the odd looks the other students gave him.

He walked up the stone steps leading into the entrance hall, and took a deep breath before heading into the Great Hall. It had not changed it all since Jon had left it at the end of his fifth year. Four long tables, as well as the one where the teachers were sitting. The candles floating lazily in the air that lit up the entire hall, the ghosts that drifted through the walls and talked with the amassing students, even the sight of kids going to their tables all brought a pang of pain through Jon’s heart. He had missed out on this for two years, all because of a need for vengeance.

He spotted Robb and Arya sitting in the very middle of the table, where they had always been. Jon remembered how when it was just himself, Robb, Sansa and Arya they would often alternate between the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw table and laugh and make fun of one another during either breakfast, lunch or dinner, and how they would become so rowdy that one of the teachers would have to come down and tell them to keep the volume down. It had become a Stark (plus Jon and anyone else they invited) tradition to automatically gather together at the Gryffindor table as soon as Headmaster Mormont finished his speech and eat together.

It was because of that, that Jon decided to sit at the very end of the table, away from the Starks and the loudness of childhood. He kept his head bowed so that his curls would cover his face as more and more students filed into the Great Hall, and he only looked up when Professor Shae walked in, holding the Sorting Hat and a stool and being followed by dozens of nervous first-years. Jon spotted Rickon somewhere in the middle, with his messy auburn hair and bouncing excitedly on his heels as he waved at his older siblings.

Jon did not pay much attention to the Sorting Hat’s song, though he knew it was singing about banding together to prepare against the coming threat of the Night King and his army. He only clapped when Rickon was sorted into Gryffindor, and smiled when he sprinted over to sit between Robb and Arya.

Professor Mormont, or the Old Bear as he was called during the war against the Mad King, stood up and delivered his start of term messages, which Jon once again tuned out. He was surprised however, to see that Robb was the Head Boy and Daenerys Targaryen of Slytherin the Head Girl.

If Jon could remember correctly, Daenerys was the daughter of the dark wizard Aerys Targaryen, also known as the Mad King. The Mad King was infamous for burning his victims alive with either Fiendfyre of wildfire, and had killed hundreds of muggles and wizard folk during his reign of terror. It was his oldest son Rhaegar that had formed the Order of the Phoenix and led the resistance against his father, and personally defeated him. Daenerys was born afterwards and was a couple of months younger than Jon, and was extremely beautiful. Later on Rhaegar Targaryen became the Minister for Magic, and was well-known for trying to rectify the damage caused by Aerys and furthering his career, which only earned Jon’s ire because he had done very little to stop the Night King’s rampage across Britain.

Professor Mormont finished his speech, and with a clap of his hands, the tables were filled with food of every kind. Jon helped himself to as much as he good, this being the first proper meal he had had in a long time and gorged himself.

Jon was not sure how much time had passed since dinner began, but he saw Sansa and Bran stand up and walk towards Gryffindor table. Theon Greyjoy, Jeyne Westerling and Sam Tarly stood up as well and followed them over and sat down with Robb, Arya and Rickon. He spotted Sansa looking up and down the table, no doubt in search of him, and he kept his head down so that she could not see him.

Unfortunately, she did see him and she whispered something to Robb before standing up and coming over towards him. Jon did not look up, hoping that if he stayed looking as though he did not see her she would go away, but she came anyway.

“Jon?” she said unsurely, and Jon sighed before looking up.

“Yes Sansa?” he said as politely as he could.

“Everyone’s over there, and we all wanted to know if you would come and join us?” she asked, her expression and voice hopeful.

Jon looked down the table to see all the Starks and their friends looking over at him and Sansa, and when they made eye contact everyone waved excitedly at him and beckoned him over.

“I’m sorry Sansa, but I don’t think that’s a good idea,” said Jon and he shook his head. He saw the way her face fell, but he tried to pay it no mind. “Thank you for the invitation though, I appreciate it.”

“But Sam and Theon haven’t seen you in years and-” began Sansa.

“Just drop it Sansa,” Jon said harshly, and he immediately regretted it when he saw the hurt look on her face.

“Sorry for disturbing you,” choked out Sansa.

“Sansa I-” started Jon, but she was already walking away, and Jon slumped in defeat.

He felt miserable for the rest of the feast, but he had already decided to not go over, despite feeling everyone’s eyes on him, as though they were hoping that by simply staring at him Jon would give in. Dessert passed by, and then Professor Mormont dismissed everyone for bed.

Jon leapt out of his seat and sprinted up the numerous stairs to the Gryffindor entrance, where the picture of the Maiden Fair stood guard.

“Password?” she asked.

“Er...” said Jon. _Fuck, I don’t know the password._

“No password, no entry,” said the Maiden, and Jon groaned.

Luckily, or rather unfortunately, Robb came up the stairs and said, “Direwolf,” and the Maiden’s portrait swung open.

“Thanks,” muttered Jon and he swept past Robb without another word and up to the seventh-year boys’ dormitory. He saw his trunk propped up against the foot of one of the four-poster beds, the exact same one he used to sleep in, and Jon smiled. He opened the trunk and pulled out Longclaw, tossing it onto his bed, then grabbed his pajamas and put them on before grabbing his toothbrush and toothpaste and heading to the bathroom. When he got back, he grabbed Longclaw and began to polish it with a cloth.

Jon ignored Pyp and Grenn when they came barging into the dorm, laughing loudly and cracking jokes. They stopped however when they saw Jon sitting on his bed polishing his sword.

“Jon? Is that really you?” said Pyp.

“Hello Pyp,” said Jon. “It’s been a while.”

“Two years mate. Where have you been?” said Grenn.

“All over the place,” answered Jon, because it was as close to the truth without actually saying anything. Pyp and Grenn grinned before they turned back to their conversation, leaving Jon alone with his thoughts.

When Robb finally came in, Jon stiffened.

“My father does that with Ice all the time,” commented Robb, coming over to his bed, which was right next to Jon’s. “He says it’s a way to help clear his thoughts.”

“Your father is a smart man,” said Jon, and Robb grinned. The eldest Stark child got dressed into his night clothes and sat on his bed facing Jon.

“I’m sorry about what I said on the train mate,” he said.

“It’s fine. You were right to speak those things,” said Jon with a shrug.

“I wasn’t though. I was speaking out of anger because I thought I lost my best friend forever.”

“I’m sorry for not telling you anything, or not speaking to any of you while I was away,” said Jon.

“I don’t blame you. Everyone deals with grief in their own way I guess,” replied Robb. “Arya gave me a real chewing out after you left,” he added.

“I was counting on it,” joked Jon. Robb laughed and Jon joined in, but then they both sobered up quickly.

“Where did you go? What did you do? Why does your face have those scars?” asked Robb.

“I...” started Jon. _Don’t tell them_ , said a voice in his head. _You’ll only put him in danger. All of them_. “

I can’t tell you, not right now,” he finally said. “What I can tell you though is that I was fighting the good fight.” Robb seemed to understand, because he nodded his head and bid Jon goodnight.

The lights turned off, and Jon was enveloped in darkness.


	2. Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More of Jon's history is revealed, and the Starks struggle to deal with how much he has changed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The abilities of warging has changed to suit the needs of the story

**JON**

Jon woke up at dawn, screaming loudly as his nightmares caught up with him. Thankfully, he had remembered to place a Silencing Charm around his bed before he went to sleep, but the scar over his left eye burned with the memory of how it was received, and Jon rubbed at the eye roughly.

Looking out the window, Jon saw that the sun hadn’t even risen above the horizon yet, except for the thin band of orange that separated the mountains of Scotland to the sky. He groaned and once again cursed his nightmares before he rolled out of bed, put on his workout clothes and grabbed his sword before exiting the dorm. Nobody seemed to be up except for Jon as he left Gryffindor Tower and outside the castle towards the Black Lake.

He saw the giant squid, or the Drowned God as it was nicknamed, lifting its tentacles up out of the water and into the air, and one of them imitated a waving motion that Jon reciprocated.

“Hold this for me, would ya?” said Jon, and he tossed Longclaw into the lake, but the Drowned God caught it before it touched the water. “Thanks mate.”

Jon did some stretches before he took off at a jog around the lake. Once he had gone around the entire lake twice, he ran into the Forbidden Forest. He heard something large coming towards him and smiled when he saw a great beast with fur white as snow and eyes redder than blood.

“Hello Ghost,” said Jon warmly, reaching out to scratch the giant wolf behind his ears. Direwolves were rare these days, though in medieval times they were found all over the United Kingdom and most of Europe. Now, they had been hunted to near extinction, with only a few packs found across the world. Jon had found Ghost as a pup, abandoned by his mother in the freezing woods of Northern Scotland. Since then the albino direwolf had become Jon’s closest companion and had followed him all the way to Hogwarts. “Ready for a run?” asked Jon, and Ghost snorted before following him further into the Forbidden Forest.

The stories people told you of how the Forbidden Forest that fringed the Hogwarts’ grounds was filled with terrifying monsters that would tear you apart the second they saw you was only partially true. Yes, there were countless magical creatures in there that the Ministry of Magic had declared ‘extremely dangerous,’ but that was only if you didn’t know how to deal with them.

During Jon’s time with the Night’s Watch, the Wizarding World’s equivalent of the Muggle Special Forces, he had met and trained under a man named Varamyr ‘Six-Skins.’ The man specialized in beast taming, and had taught Jon just about everything he knew on how to treat magical creatures as harmless as bowtruckles or as deadly as basilisks. Jon excelled at taming beasts, but it turned out that it was a magical ability of his called warging.

“Warging means that you have a natural sway over the natural and supernatural world,” Varamyr had explained to him. “They recognise you as somebody they can trust, so don’t abuse that power. Some of the more powerful ones can even transform their bodies into an animal, much like an Animagus but without outside magical influence.”

As Jon went further into the Forbidden Forest, the sounds of the environment became more ominous, and Jon subconsciously checked to make sure that his wand was in his pocket. He hoped that if he did come across a magical creature, it would be one he knew how to handle. It was almost pitch black inside the forest, and the fog was still thick compared to near the Black Lake. Jon heard a twig snap behind him, and he stopped and whipped his wand out with lightning speed, pointing it to where he had heard the sound come from.

"Lumos,” whispered Jon, and he took a tentative step forward when the tip of his wand lit up. The light did not do much to dispel the fog, but at least it allowed Jon to see a little further ahead. He heard another twig snap, this time to his right, and he turned to face whatever it was that was nearby, but still could not see anything. Ghost growled next to Jon, and pressed himself closer to his master in a protective stance.

He pointed his wand to the ground to look for clues, and found a peculiar footprint. Jon crouched down and lightly brushed his hand over the track. It looked like it belonged to a feline creature, with five toes. The footprint itself was almost three times the size of Jon’s hand.

 _It belongs to something small, something young and inexperienced, if the twigs breaking is any indication_ , thought Jon. He lifted his head, brushing a few curls away and looked around for any other sign of whatever was around. _It’s hunting me. Or rather, learning to_. He saw a large shadow then, with glowing orange eyes coming towards him slowly. Ghost's growling became even more pronounced, and Jon’s first instinct was to raise his wand, but he feared that would only provoke the creature.

So he lowered it slowly, and raised his other hand with his fingers spread wide. “It’s okay, I’m not here to hurt you,” said Jon quietly, and the creature let out a growl in response.

As it came closer, Jon could begin to see details. It was as large as a lion, with small, narrow spikes that stuck out of its back at irregular intervals. Its fur was a dark yellow with rosettes similar to a leopard, and was well muscled, but its paws looked too large for its body, confirming its young age.

“Holy shit,” muttered Jon, when it fully came into view. “That’s a Nundu.” _And a cub at that._

The Nundu let out another small growl, and Jon eyed it warily. “Where’s your mother, little one?" asked Jon as he took a few small steps towards it. He cautiously placed his outstretched hand on the Nundu’s fur, and when it did not react, he gently petted it while keeping an eye out for the mother, wherever she was.

The Nundu cub let out a soft purr of content and it sat down on its haunches, allowing Jon to continue petting it. That was until suddenly the forest rang with the sound of a mighty roar that shook the very ground and sent birds flying in panic. Jon stood up, as well as the Nundu cub. “Time to go,” said Jon, with with one last pet of the cub, he took off back to where he came from, Ghost following closely behind.

He could hear something enormous chasing after him, but he dared not look back to see what was no doubt the mother Nundu chasing him. Nundus were considered even more dangerous than dragons, with tougher hides and a toxic breath so deadly it could wipe out entire villages. So he picked up the pace as sprinted as fast as he could until he ran right through the border where the forest ended and spun around.

The mother Nundu stopped just behind the tree line, so it was difficult to see, but those glowing orange eyes were unmistakeable. It eyed him with anger, but did not pursue him, instead letting off a rumbling growl before it disappeared back into the darkness.

Jon let out a sigh of relief before returning to the Black Lake, where the Drowned God was twirling the sheathed sword between its tentacles. It seemed to sense Jon approaching and it threw Longclaw back into his waiting arms. He buckled the sword back around his waist and waved goodbye to the Drowned God and Ghost before he jogged back up to the castle.

* * *

 It should have come as no surprise that Jon Snow’s return to Hogwarts would have started the school’s infamous rumour mill running, and yet, Jon could not get used to the feeling of people staring at his back as he walked through the halls to his lessons. It reminded him too much of when he was being stalked by wights and other evil creatures, but at least the students weren’t out to kill him... yet.

After having a shower and coming down to the Great Hall for breakfast, he spotted Robb and Arya eating together. He slipped into the empty space on the bench next to Robb, and the two gave each other grunts of acknowledgement. Arya only rolled her eyes at the hello, or rather lack thereof from across the table.

“You weren’t in bed when I woke up,” said Robb.

“Went for a run,” replied Jon.

“Where?” asked Arya, joining in on the conversation.

“Just around the lake,” said Jon, omitting the part where he was chased by the deadliest magical creature on the planet. “I see that the Drowned God is as friendly as ever.”

“Ugh, that’s such a stupid nickname,” groaned Arya.

“Maybe you can take that up with Hogwarts’ founders,” quipped Robb.

“Shut it, smartass.”

Jon only chuckled at the siblings’ bickering as he dug into a plate full of sausages and bacon. When he looked up from his plate, he noticed Arya and Robb giving him funny looks. “What?” he asked.

“You’re acting like a man starving,” said Robb.

“Sorry. It’s just been a while since I ate food this good,” apologized Jon. Or even as much.

“When are you gonna tell us what happened to you?” said Arya, and Robb gave her a harsh look that she returned. Jon opened his mouth to speak, but he noticed several other students leaning in to eavesdrop on what he was about to say.

“Not today,” said Jon, then added much more quietly, “too many people here.”

Both Robb and Arya nodded in understanding, when someone suddenly sat next to Jon and his hand automatically went for his wand.

“Easy cowboy, it’s just me,” said Sansa, her mouth quirking up into a smile, but Jon could also see the surprise and hesitancy in her eyes.

“Sorry,” he muttered, and returned to his plate of food. Sansa shrugged and helped herself to some toast, eating much more reservedly than the other three were.

“You wouldn’t believe the stories people are making up about you,” said Sansa.

“I’m sure the Hogwarts rumour mill is as imaginative as always,” drawled Jon in reply.

“Would you like to hear some of the more outrageous of them?” asked Sansa.

“I don’t see no reason why not.”

“Well, for starters, I heard this one kid from hufflepuff who I’m certain wasn’t even at Hogwarts when you left going on about how he swore he saw you at some seedy pub in Ireland with men who looked like they were from the Night’s Watch.”

Jon froze in place. What? How?

“There was this other girl who reckons you’ve been on a solo mission hunting the Night King,” continued Sansa, completely unaware of Jon’s shift of mood and tense posture.

 _Shit. Holy fucking shit_ , thought Jon. Did somebody find him out? Was there somebody amongst the student body that was sent to spy on him? Damn it, Jon should never have come back to Hogwarts, it was simply too stupid and dangerous to try to come back and readjust to the normal world.

“Jon!” said Sansa loudly, bringing Jon back out of his thoughts.

“I’m sorry?” said Jon in confusion.

“The fork, you’ve bent it out of place!” she exclaimed. Jon looked down to see that his fist had completely warped the fork handle and he dropped it on the table in shock.

“I got this,” muttered Arya, and she pulled her wand out of her pocket and muttered _“Reparo.”_

The fork popped back into its proper shape, and everyone looked at Jon in surprise.

“Are you okay Jon? You look kinda pale,” said Sansa.

“Oh! Yes, I’m fine, perfectly fine. One-hundred percent healthy thank you!” said Jon quickly and he stood up, grabbed his back and slung it over his shoulder. “Class is starting soon, see ya!”

He then bolted out of the Great Hall, but he still caught Arya’s weird exclamation of, “What the fuck just happened?”

Of course, just as Jon thought he was in the clear, the worst thing happened.

“JON SNOW!” shrieked a high-pitched voice.

Jon winced and turned around on his heels to see a red-faced and murderous-looking Ygritte Wild stomping towards him. She and Jon had been dating the year he ran away, and he hadn’t even offered an explanation or even a goodbye, so Ygritte’s anger was completely understandable.

“Oh er- hey Ygritte,” said Jon sheepishly as he adjusted his bag over his shoulder.

“Hey Ygritte? That’s the first bloody thing that comes out of your mouth after disappearing for two fucking years?!” snapped Ygritte. “Where the hell have you been?”

“I er...” Jon realised that a small crowd had gathered around them, all whispering excitedly in each other’s ears.

“Well? Don’t you think I deserve an explanation?” demanded Ygritte impatiently, her arms now folded across her chest.

“I can’t tell you,” said Jon lamely.

“But you can tell your Stark buddies?” Jon opened his mouth to correct her but Ygritte continued. “Not even your own girlfriend?”

“Wait, we’re still dating?” said Jon incredulously.

It turned out to be the wrong thing to say, because Ygritte screamed and whipped her wand out and shouted _“Fernunculus!”_

Jon’s training automatically kicked in and he sidestepped the curse. He pulled his own wand and disarmed her with a flick of his wrist. Ygritte stood stiffly in surprise as her head swiveled from where her wand had fallen and back to Jon.

“I am sorry for hurting you,” apologized Jon before he went off to his first class.

* * *

To say that Jon was bored out of his mind was an understatement. He wasn’t exactly sure why he had come back to Hogwarts, because after only a week back it was clear that he was far ahead of the school curriculum. The seventh-years had learned Patronus Charms in Defence Against the Dark Arts under Professor Cassel’s instruction, and Jon was the first to perform the charm correctly and earned gasps of surprise as a silvery-wolf trotted around the classroom. Charms, Potions and even Herbology were extremely easy, though it bored Jon extremely. On the plus side though he did earn Gryffindor a crap load of points.

He was now sitting in the common room next to Robb by the fireplace, reading about dementors. Jon remembered that the Night King had dozens of them under his employ, and Jon had faced them more times than he would like to remember. The black cloaks, raspy breathing, rotting hands, being forced to watch as one clamped its foul mouth over Thoros’ face and sucked his soul out...

“You okay buddy?” asked Robb, bringing Jon back to the present. Jon nodded his head and focussed back on his work, trying to force the horrible memories away.

“You don’t look okay,” pressed Robb. “I admit, learning about dementors is pretty messed up but at least we’ve never met one, right?”

When Jon didn’t answer, Robb’s face darkened. “You’ve never met one, right Jon?” Jon looked up at his best friend, hoping to keep his face as neutral as possible.

“You don’t want to know the answer to that question,” said Jon gruffly. When Robb opened his mouth, Jon added, “Seriously Robb, drop it.”

Robb huffed but did not press any further, turning back to his homework. Jon sighed and leant back on the couch and closed his eyes for a moment to rest. Who knew that boredom was the best way for Jon to catch some sleep?

**SANSA**

Her first week back at school started off fantastic, being able to catch up with friends and see teachers she got along with again. It helped that Sansa was in her sixth year, that age where you’re too young to be worried about NEWT’s but old enough to do just about everything like visit Hogsmeade or sneak into a broom cupboard to have a snog.

Not that Sansa had done any of the latter in a long time, not since she broke up with Joffrey. She was curious about Harry Hardyng though, a sixth-year Hufflepuff with blonde hair and quite pleasing on the eyes. Of course, he would have to pass Robb, Arya, Bran and Rickon’s judgement, and possibly Jon as well, now that he was back.

Of course, Sansa’s day took a dramatic downturn into horrorville late that night when she came into the Gryffindor common room with Arya and saw Robb desperately trying to hold down a thrashing Jon. By the looks of things, he was asleep.

“Help me!” shouted Robb.

Arya dropped her school bag where she stood and jumped at Jon, pinning his legs down with her body. Robb was trying his hardest to pin Jon’s arms to his sides, but he was thrown backwards off the couch when Jon’s forehead smashed into his nose.

“Son of a-!” grunted Robb, standing back up and clutching his now-bleeding nose.

“I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you all!” screamed Jon, his head swinging wildly from side to side.

“Damn it Robb, stop him!” screeched Arya.

Sansa pulled her wand out and pointed it at Jon and shouted _“Petrificus Totalus!”_

A bolt of light shot out at Jon, striking him in the arm. Instantly his body went rigid as a board, his arms snapping to his sides. It did not stop the horrible words coming out of his mouth though.

“I’LL KILL YOU!” bellowed Jon. People were starting to come downstairs to investigate the racket that was being caused.

“What’s going on?” demanded Eddard Karstark, a fifth-year if Sansa remembered correctly.

“Shit, we need to wake him up,” grunted Arya.

 _"Rennervate,"_ said Sansa, and Jon’s eyes fluttered open wide. He screamed again and impossibly, the Full Body-Bind Curse was broken and he jumped out of the couch, throwing Arya off and tackled Robb to the ground with lightning speed.

There were several screeches from the gathered students and everybody took a step back from the sudden movement. Suddenly he had a sword in his hands and was pointing the tip of it to Robb’s throat.

“Where is he?!” demanded Jon, his eyes wild with rage.

“Jon- it’s me!” said Robb, his own eyes filled with fear.

“WHERE IS THE NIGHT KING?!” bellowed Jon, pressing the sword down slightly and drawing blood.

“Jon what the fuck!” screamed Arya, and she took a step back when the sword Jon was holding was suddenly pointed at her.

“Jon!” called out Sansa, and Jon looked at her hatefully at first, then it turned to confusion.

“Sansa?” said Jon. “What are you doing here? Why is-” he stopped speaking when he saw the others all looking at him with terrified expressions. “Oh God,” he whispered in horror, dropping the sword and standing up off of Robb. “Oh God.”

“We need to take him to the hospital wing,” said Arya, snapping out of whatever spell the entire tower was under. She stepped forward and grabbed a still-stunned Jon’s elbow and pulled him towards the door.

Sansa helped Robb up, who looked extremely shaken by what happened.

“G-Go back up to bed everyone, the situation is being taken care of,” said Sansa as she led Jon towards the portrait hole.

“Like hell it is, Jon Snow just tried to kill Robb!” said a voice at the back of the gathered crowd, which earned a round of agreement.

“Just go back to bed,” snapped Robb angrily before he stormed out, Sansa following closely behind.

“Are you okay?” asked Sansa.

“Yeah, just a little shaken is all,” said Robb.

“You’re bleeding,” she pointed out.

“What- oh,” said Robb in surprise when his hand touched his throat and nose and saw blood on his finger. “I need to go get the headmaster.”

“But Robb-”

“Just go see if Arya and Jon are alright,” cut in Robb and he sprinted away from Sansa.

Sansa sighed and continued on her way to the hospital wing, where she found Jon already in a bed accompanied by Arya, Healer Luwin and Professor Tyrion Lannister, the Ancient Runes teacher.

“Ah! Miss Stark. I was told that you and your brother would be coming down,” said Professor Lannister in a voice that was far too pleasant for the situation they were currently in.

“Robb’s just gone to get the Headmaster,” replied Sansa.

“That was probably for a best,” said Professor Lannister.

“Here, drink this,” said Healer Luwin, holding out a vial towards Jon, who looked pale and was shaking. When Jon looked at it distrustfully, Healer Luwin sighed. “I am aware of your disabilities Mister Snow so don’t give me that look. It’s a calming potion.”

Jon’s scowl deepened further, but he took the vial and drank the whole thing in one go. Instantly he looked more relaxed and Sansa let out a breath she wasn’t aware she was holding. Jon’s eyes then fluttered closed and his breathing evened out, and Arya glared at the healer.

“I thought you said that it was a calming potion,” she demanded hotly.

“It is, but it is mixed with a Dreamless Sleep Potion, God knows the boy needs it,” said Healer Luwin with a shake of his head before he disappeared into his office.

Just then the hospital wing doors opened and Robb, the front of his shirt bloodied came in, led by Professor Mormont. Arya rushed over to Robb and pulled him into a crushing hug, one which Robb eagerly reciprocated. Sansa too hugged her older brother, trying to stop the tears from falling as she looked at the unconscious Jon helplessly.

“What happened to Mister Snow?” asked Professor Mormont.

“Jon and I were up late studying,” explained Robb. “It was getting pretty late so Jon fell asleep on the couch next to me, but I wasn’t feeling that tired you see. He started talking in his sleep, which he used to do all the time when we were kids if he was super exhausted, so I didn’t pay much attention to it.

“Then he started screaming about awful things, like some guys named Thoros and Mance Rayder being murdered and I thought he was having a nightmare so I tried to wake him up but he wouldn’t and then he was kicking and punching in his sleep like he was fighting somebody.”

“Sansa and I came in when Robb was trying to hold him down,” said Arya, telling of her perspective. “I tried to hold his legs down while Robb grabbed his arms, but Sansa was able to Full Body-Bind him to stop him.”

“I woke him up with a Reviving Charm, but then out of nowhere he had a sword and was pointing it at Robb’s throat screaming about the Night King,” said Sansa.

“I’ve never seen somebody move so fast,” muttered Robb, almost in awe.

Professor Mormont’s face darkened and his eyes flitted over to Jon. “How many others saw this happen?” he asked.

“Most of Gryffindor House, I reckon,” said Arya.

“Oh boy,” sighed Professor Mormont, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger.

“Professor, what did Jon mean when he was talking about the Night King?” asked Arya.

“Mister Snow has lived through even worse experiences since he ran away two years ago. It is not my place to tell you Mister Snow’s secrets,” said the Old Bear gravely. “Quite frankly, if I were him, I would never divulge what he has been through to anybody, so I ask that you do not press him for details when he wakes up. Am I clear?”

“Yes sir,” said all three Starks gathered.

“Good,” said Professor Mormont. “Now, it is late, so I suggest you return to your dormitories for some sleep. Mister Stark, I would have your nose and neck looked at if I were you.” And with that Professor Mormont walked away from them, followed by Professor Lannister who gave them sympathetic looks and the hospital wing doors closing gently behind them.

“I don’t even know how I’m gonna sleep after that,” said Arya.

“The Night King? Why was he screaming about the Night King?” added Robb.

“We shouldn’t pry into things,” said Sansa, not feeling anywhere near as curious as her brother and sister. “Jon will tell us if he’s ready.”

“ _If_ he’s ready,” said Arya.

“But still, the Night King? What was he doing? Fighting him?” persisted Robb.

Arya scoffed. “For all we know he could be that White Wolf dude who’s been kicking some serious ass against the White Walkers,” she said.

“Come on, seriously? You think Jon’s the White Wolf?” snorted Robb.

“It makes sense,” said Sansa. “Did you see how fast he moved when he attacked you Robb?”

“I didn’t see it, but I sure _felt_ it,” grumbled Robb.

“None of us saw him move, and where the hell did he get that sword from?” said Arya.

“He takes Longclaw everywhere he goes,” pointed out Sansa.

“He wasn’t holding it when he woke up,” retorted Arya.

“Isn’t the Night’s Watch supposed to be working with the White Wolf?” asked Robb.

When Sansa saw the identical looks on Robb and Arya’s faces she gasped and shook her head.

“No. No no, nope. No way,” she said angrily.

“What?” said Robb and Arya at the same time.

“You are not sticking your noses around where they shouldn’t be this time. Remember when you decided to find the Chamber of Secrets?” said Sansa.

“We got an award for special services to the school!” protested Robb.

“And nearly died trying to find it!” snapped Sansa. “You were lucky that the basilisk down there had died years ago!”

“It was pretty cool though,” muttered Arya.

“And what about the time when you asked the Drowned God to pull you to the bottom of the lake because you wanted to know if merpeople really did live there?” continued Sansa, ignoring Arya’s grumbling.

“We had Bubble-head Charms on!” protested Robb.

“Only because Jon knew how to do the charm!” snapped Sansa. She pointed a finger at both her siblings. “You will stay out of Jon’s business this time. It’s bad enough that Jon’s suffered through it, I don’t want you too to be waking up from night terrors as well.”

“Yes Mother,” drawled Arya with a roll of her eyes.

“Ok fine, we’ll stay out of Jon’s business,” conceded Robb. “But I still want to know more about the White Wolf.”

“Ugh! Fine, whatever,” groaned Sansa, and she turned away from Robb and Arya to leave the hospital wing, completely missing the look Robb and Arya gave each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the delay! Life's been pretty hectic lately so I'm not sure when I'll be able to post the next chapter but hopefully soon!


	3. Quidditch Trials

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry that this chapter isn't as long as the others, but I find it super hard to write Quidditch. The next chapter will be so much better than this I promise!

JON

“Oh come on man! We haven’t had a good chaser since you left!” complained Robb.

“For the last time Robb, I’m not being Chaser again. I’ve got enough attention the past couple of weeks as it is,” grumbled Jon. “Besides, you said it yourself, Arya’s the best Seeker Gryffindor’s had since my mum.”

As was expected, Jon’s little episode in the Gryffindor common room reached the ears of just about every student in Hogwarts, with the tale becoming more and more outrageous as time went on. It wasn’t until the middle of October came that the gossip finally died down, and more people avoided Jon, probably because they thought he was secretly a vampire or some other kind of Dark creature, which was perfectly fine with him.

“Yeah but we still need a good Chaser. Joffrey Baratheon hasn’t shut his mouth in two years about how amazing Karl Tanner is. The punk really needs someone to knock him off his high horse,” argued Robb. When Jon didn’t react, he turned to Sam. “Back me up here!”

Sam snorted on his porridge. “No way am I getting into this. Hufflepuff hasn’t won the Quidditch Cup since Qhorin Halfhand. I’d rather not encourage Jon to try out, that way you guys won’t kick our asses as badly,” he said with a laugh.

Jon sighed in defeat. “Fine, I’ll come by this afternoon to have a look,” he said. The look Robb gave Jon could have made the sun appear dull in comparison.

“Thank you! I knew we were best friends for a reason!” exclaimed Robb, clapping Jon on the back.

“Hey!” said Theon indignantly.

“Oh shut up, Greyjoy,” snapped Robb, while everyone else laughed at the Slytherin’s expense.

Jon only smiled softly before returning to his breakfast, remaining silent while everyone else chatted away until the bell rang for first classes. For Jon, Robb and Sam, that was Potions with Professor Aemon Targaryen while Theon ran off to his class.

As per usual, Potions was dull enough to put nearly put the seventh-year NEWT students to sleep, until Professor Targaryen announced that they would be making Amortentia, the most powerful love potion ever. Jon was partnered with Daenerys Targaryen, who at the start of the year was quite stiff towards him but had warmed up towards him as the weeks went by. If Joffrey Baratheon was the Slytherin Prince, then Daenerys was their Queen. A good queen though, luckily. Thankfully, both Jon and Daenerys were excellent Potions students and were the first to finish.

“Excellent work, Mister Snow and Daenerys,” complimented Professor Targaryen with a fond smile.

“Thanks Uncle Aemon,” said Daenerys.

“You know, people might start to think that we’re only getting good grades because you’re the Potions Master’s niece,” said Jon.

“Great-great grand niece,” corrected Daenerys. “And it’s not my fault that I have an adequate partner.”

“Touché,” said Jon. He gestured to the cauldron then. “What do you smell?” he asked curiously.

Daenerys leant over the smoking cauldron then and took a deep breath through her nose. “Sweat, horses and ash,” she said fondly.

“That remind you of anyone?” asked Jon.

“My boyfriend, Drogo,” replied Daenerys. “He grew up with horses most of his life and lives on a farm, so he smells like horse all the time, and the ash is probably from my family’s dragons. He’s one of their handlers.”

“Well it seems as though you’ve met your soul mate,” commented Jon.

Daenerys blushed at Jon’s compliment, her violet eyes wide with amusement. “What do you smell?” she asked.

Jon leant over the cauldron and took a sniff, then scrunched his eyebrows together in confusion. “Wood smoke and pine. It reminds me of Winterfell actually,” said Jon. When he took another sniff, he added by saying, “and lemon and citrus. That’s a very strong smell.”

“Do you know anyone who smells like that?” asked Daenerys.

“I smell like wood smoke and pine. But most of the people up North and near Winterfell smell like that too,” said Jon. “I’m not sure where the lemon and honey comes from though.”

“Sounds like you’ve got a bit of a mystery on your hands,” joked Daenerys.

“I’m not interested in finding my soul mate right now,” said Jon. “I have school to finish.” _And a Dark Lord to kill_. Jon and Daenerys continued to chat quietly amongst themselves until class finished, and when Robb came over to walk to their next class Jon groaned at the sly look on his face.

“Getting cozy with the Dragon Queen aye?” said Robb mischievously.

“Of course not. Just making small talk is all,” scoffed Jon.

“That’s what they all say,” laughed Jon.

“No seriously mate. She’s not my type,” said Jon, “Or my soul mate apparently,” he added as an afterthought.

“So you get a good smell?” asked Robb.

“Yeah,” said Jon, and when he explained what he smelt, Robb’s face darkened. “What?”

“Nothing, nothing,” said Robb absentmindedly. Jon gave his friend a funny look, but did not push it and they went along to Care of Magical Creatures. By now, most of the students were aware of Jon’s odd connection with the animals, but Robb was the only one who knew of his warging ability so far. Professor Jhogo would always get excited whenever he had to teach the seventh-years, mainly because he wanted to see how Jon would handle the magical creatures, and after a month and a half of having his burly teacher practically ogling him, Jon was getting sick of it.

Charms under Professor Seaworth was a little better, though still boring for Jon, so he did his best to help Robb and Sam with their practical work. What was supposed to be a dull day turned sour when Jon, Robb and Sam ran into Joffrey Baratheon and his lackeys hounding Sansa.

“Come on Stark! You won’t get another chance like this!” called out Joffrey behind Sansa’s back.

“A real pity,” Jon heard Sansa drawl. "Leave me alone, Baratheon."

“Oi! Leave my sister alone!” shouted Robb, drawing his wand out.

“Ah! Isn’t it the Young Wolf, Ser Piggy and the Lost Boy,” sneered Joffrey. “Your sister was just about to accept my invitation to the Hogsmeade weekend coming up.”

“No, I wasn’t,” said Sansa.

Jon could see that she looked a little upset, and he scowled at the Slytherin brat.

“Leave her alone, Baratheon, or I’ll make you,” warned Robb, straightening his back and puffing his chest out to look bigger.

“Please, you couldn’t touch me. My mother would make sure of it,” said Joffrey superiorly.

“Maybe, but I don’t have a problem with that,” said Jon, stepping in between Robb and Joffrey. Joffrey took a conscious step back from Jon’s glare, but he still had that glint of defiance in his eyes.

“What brought you back, Snow? Missed chasing after the tails of your Stark masters?” sneered Joffrey. “Or did you decide that you spent enough time crying after your Mudblood mummy?”

Sansa gasped and brought her hands to her mouth in horror, Robb started swearing at Joffrey and Sam was forced to hold him back while Joffrey’s friends laughed. Jon however, did not move a muscle, except for the tick in his jaw. He then grabbed Joffrey’s collar so fast Joffrey couldn't react and pulled him so close to him that Jon could feel Joffrey’s breath over his face.

“How’s your grandfather? I heard you couldn’t be at his funeral but I’m sure it was lovely,” whispered Jon so that only Joffrey could hear. “Tywin was a good man, and I’m sure his generous donations to the Night’s Watch will be greatly appreciated. Do give your mother my regards, and tell her that her influence could be better used elsewhere. We wouldn't want the Ministry to find out you've been hiding a certain someone.”

Joffrey’s eyes widened in terror and Jon roughly pushed him away.

”And leave Sansa alone!” he said louder this time so that everyone could hear before he walked over to Sansa.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she said, “are you okay? Joffrey shouldn’t have said those things to you.”

Jon shrugged. “I’ve heard worse,” he said nonchalantly.

Sansa nodded then looked over her shoulder before screaming “LOOK OUT!”

Jon spun around, wand already drawn and deflected the curse fired at him by Joffrey.

“Flagellum Flamma!” he shouted, and a fiery whip shout out of his wand and wrapped around Joffrey’s wrist and forearm. The golden-haired idiot howled in pain when the whip seared through his clothes and burned his skin, and with a yank, Jon pulled Joffrey over to him, forcing the Slytherin on his knees.

“You dare?!” roared Jon, and with a twist of his wand, the whip flared white and made Joffrey scream even more. “After what I just said to you? You really think you could attack me from behind and get away with it?”

“I-I’m sorry!” cried Joffrey, tears streaming down his eyes.

“You fucking right you are. If you try anything like that again I’ll be sending your body to your mother in pieces!”

Jon released Joffrey’s burnt wrist, which had swollen up with red, steaming welts. Jon let out a low growl which sent Joffrey and his friends running away. Jon turned around and gave them an apologetic smile.

“Sorry you had to see that,” he said sheepishly.

“Are you kidding me? That was fucking amazing!” said Robb incredulously.

“It was a little excessive,” said Sam.

“You have to teach me that spell,” said Robb, completely ignoring Sam’s remark.

“One day,” said Jon. Out of the corner of his eye, Jon could see Sansa giving him an appraising look that set him on edge slightly.

“If you can scare Joffrey like that on the Quidditch pitch, we’ll win for sure!”

Jon, Sam and Sansa all groaned in unison.

* * *

It had been years since Jon had last flown a broomstick. Not since he was the star Chaser for Gryffindor back in his fourth year, if he remembered correctly. Robb’s warning rang in his head. “If you fuck up, your bad boy image will be ruined!” 

What bad boy image? Fucking Robb didn’t know what he was talking about. Jon scanned the Quidditch pitch. High above in the air, Robb was talking to his teammates, possibly asking for their advice. Robb was a natural leader and people looked up to him, so it came as no surprise to Jon when he learned he had been chosen as both the Gryffindor Quidditch captain and Head Boy. Below the Gryffindor team, nervous students from all year levels were standing nervously as they awaited their trial. Jon could spot some cocky older kids, probably Pureblood children of ‘noble’ families amongst the small gathering and Jon rolled his eyes. 

On the stands sat Bran, Rickon and Sansa, as well as other kids from Gryffindor and the other Houses who had come to watch the tryouts. When Sansa’s eyes made contact with Jon, she waved down at him enthusiastically, and Jon returned the greeting with a two-finger salute before going over to the rest of the awaiting Quidditch hopefuls. 

Everyone stopped talking when Jon came to stand within the group, every eye turned towards him. Some of the Gryffindors glared at him, while others groaned and left the Quidditch pitch, not even bothering to tryout while Jon was here. Jon offered an apologetic smile to the others before sitting down on the grass, his old Cleansweep laid across his lap. Robb and the rest of the team flew down then on their brooms, dismantling as they landed. 

“Welcome everyone to this year’s Quidditch tryouts,” said Robb. “We only have one spot to fill this year, which is Chaser, but I’m hoping that we could find a spare player in case one of us gets injured.” He shot Arya, the Gryffindor Seeker a dark look and she responded by sticking her tongue out at him. 

“Alright!” shouted Robb, ignoring Arya’s taunting looks. “We’ll start off by doing a couple of laps around the pitch, I wanna see what I’m working with.” 

To Jon’s amusement, half of the kids assembled couldn’t balance on their brooms for more than a few feet before they either fell off or the brooms kicked them off themselves. He winced when about three students collided with each other in a sickening crunch when they tried to swerve around the first goal post, and Robb had to call a brief time out so that the injured kids could be taken up to the hospital wing.

“If you know you can’t fly a broom you might as well clear off now!” shouted Arya, giving every single one of the Quidditch hopefuls a nasty glare that had even Jon squirming uncomfortably. 

“Arya,” said Robb, though even he looked exasperated by the lack of Quidditch talent offered. “Come on Jon! Let’s see what you can do!” 

More students groaned as Jon shot up into the air, catching the Quaffle easily and tucking it under his arm. 

He hadn’t felt this free in years; the wind in his face as it blew his long dark curls backwards, as it rustled through his beard (a new experience for Jon, seeing as he couldn’t grow one the last time he rode a broom). His job was to avoid the bludgers, courtesy of the Gryffindor beaters Nymeria and Obara Sand. Surprisingly, Jon was able to work seamlessly with Daario Naharis and Edric Dayne, who were the Gryffindor Chasers the last time he was at Hogwarts. It was easy to get back into their old routines and they found a comfortable pattern. 

“Welcome back to the team Snow!” shouted Nymeria from up high above when he scored against Robb yet again. Robb called a halt to the tryout and agreed with Nymeria.

“Fucking hell, where were you last year when Slytherin manhandled us?” he laughed. 

Jon could only grin in response as he landed, and he spotted Sansa, Bran and Rickon running towards them. Jon barely had time to get off his broom before he was engulfed in a hug by Bran and Rickon. 

“We’re gonna win this year!” exclaimed Rickon happily.

“Better Gryffindor than Slytherin,” admitted Bran though he was smiling up at Jon. 

Jon watched as Sansa approached, a soft smile crossing her pale features. “Congratulations Jon. You looked really amazing out there,” she said honestly. For some reason Sansa’s compliment meant more to Jon than any of the others, but Jon bore it proudly and smiled at her.

“We have to tell everyone! Party up in Gryffindor tower!” proclaimed Rickon, and he yanked on Jon’s hand to pull him up to the castle. Jon shot Sansa a pleading look, but the red haired girl only laughed at his predicament. Jon’s scowl was replaced with a small grin and he finally allowed himself to be led back up to Hogwarts by the two youngest Stark children.


	4. Hogsmeade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope this chapter works out well, but I sure love writing action scenes.

Midway through October came the first Hogsmeade weekend, and all the students from third year and up were beyond excited to be free from the castle and to spend time having fun, buying lollies from Honeydukes, stocking up on pranks at Zonko’s and drinking a few mugs of Butterbeer. Jon too had quickly gotten sick of the confines of Hogwarts, despite it being the safest place he had been in for a long time.

He still wasn’t sure who he would be going with; Robb was taking Jeyne Westerling, Sansa’s best friend out on a date, Sam was doing the same with Gilly and Arya had been asked by one of the Hufflepuff Beaters named Gendry to accompany him. Bran said he wasn’t going because he claimed to have a tonne of studying to do, despite this being his first opportunity to go to Hogsmeade. That left only Sansa.

Jon wasn’t sure how to ask her without making it seem like he was asking her on a date, but at the same time he was sure that Sansa wouldn’t take it that way.

Luckily, the pressure was taken right off of Jon because the day before the Hogsmeade trip, he was sitting with Robb, Theon and Arya when Sansa came over, sat in the empty space next to Jon and took a slice of toast smeared with jam off his plate before taking a large bite.

“You alright there? That’s my breakfast,” Jon pointed out. Sansa responded by poking her tongue out at him then biting another piece of toast and eating it, making the others laugh.

“So Jon, who are you going with to Hogsmeade tomorrow?” asked Sansa once she swallowed her food.

“Er... no one at the moment,” answered Jon.

“Great! We can go together then,” said Sansa enthusiastically.

Robb spat his pumpkin juice out in surprise. “What?” he choked out.

“Jon and I can hang out together ‘cause you’re all off on dates,” said Sansa as if it were the most obvious thing.

“I’m not going off on a date with Gendry!” spluttered Arya indignantly. Jon, Robb, Sansa and Theon all gave Arya a look that clearly said they didn’t believe her. “Whatever,” she grumbled before digging into her breakfast.

Sansa smiled and turned back to Jon. “So, what do you think? You and me hanging out together?” she asked hopefully.

“Oh thank God,” muttered Jon. “Yes, we can hang out tomorrow. I was worried that I’d be stuck by myself all day.”

“Never,” said Sansa quietly yet passionately. Jon stared into her blue eyes. They weren’t like a wight’s eyes, that glowed blue like the coldest ice and revealing nothing but death. Sansa’s were almost like sapphires, deep and full of emotion and life, and Jon only looked away from her because she resumed her eating. Jon shook his head before finishing his toast and ignoring the odd look Robb was giving him. However, when Robb kept looking between him and Sansa with that same funny look, Jon got a little impatient.

“What?” he practically growled at Robb. Robb’s eyebrows furrowed together.

“Nothing,” he mumbled before stuffing his mouth with a sausage.

* * *

The snow had decided to fall earlier than usual, Jon noted as he waited in one of Hogwarts’ many courtyards for Sansa, watching the snow flakes fall from the sky with celestial grace. He was pretty nervous, admittedly, because he did not want anyone who saw Jon with Sansa to think they were on a date. It was bad enough that some people thought of him as some dark wizard. He patted himself down for the millionth time, checking to make sure that the obsidian daggers concealed in his right and left socks, left forearm under his jacket, inside breast pocket, as well as his wand which was tucked inside his right pant pocket. _Always good to be prepared_ , he thought.

Jon caught a glimpse of red from the corner of his eye, and Jon looked away from the snow to see Sansa coming towards him. She was wrapped up in a thick woolen jumper and denim jeans, and her hair was pulled into a single braid that trailed down over her shoulder. Some loose strands blew gently in the cool breeze but the rest was well-tamed thanks to the braid. 

“Hey,” she said excitedly. 

“Hey,” echoed Jon, feeling more nervous now. _God, what is wrong with you? It’s just Sansa._

“You ready to go?” asked Sansa, and when Jon nodded, Sansa grabbed Jon by the elbow and pulled him away from the courtyard. Sansa was her usual talkative self during the walk to Hogsmeade, and while Jon only offered a small word here and there, the redhead did not seem to mind. They, or rather, she talked about anything and everything from the unicorn foals that had just been born to Professor Mormont’s balding head.

“I mean, come on it’s about time that guy started to look his age!” exclaimed Sansa, claiming to be affronted by how well-preserved the headmaster seemed to be.

“Well, his hair has been white for a few years now,” supplied Jon.

“I know, but the Targaryens have white hair as well!” argued Sansa, and Jon couldn’t help but laugh at his friend’s enthusiasm. “Oh look! We’re here!” 

Jon turned his head away from Sansa and sure enough, the village of Hogsmeade came into view. He could already spot Hogwarts students swarming through the streets like ants, laughing and having a good time together. Not including the train pulling up at the Hogwarts station at the beginning of the school year, this was the first time Jon had set foot in the village since he ran away. Just as he remembered, the atmosphere was pleasant and happy, enough to force a dementor away.

As Jon and Sansa made their way further into the village, Jon spotted Robb leading an excited Jeyne Westerling towards Madam Puddifoot’s, and when Jon pointed them out to Sansa, she pretended to gag. 

“That place is the stuff of nightmares, honestly,” she snorted.

“Why? I heard it’s quite romantic,” said Jon. 

“Maybe if you like ugly dwarves coming up to you every five minutes to recite a ridiculous love poem,” replied Sansa.

“I thought you liked that stuff?” asked Jon, raising an eyebrow in surprise at Sansa.

“Not when it’s that sappy.”

Jon could only grin and lead Sansa towards Honeydukes to stock up on sweets supplies. Jon bought Sansa an entire box of lemon-flavoured sugar quills, her favourite after lemon cakes, which she thanked him for so happily he had to laugh. After they were done, Sansa wanted to look inside the bookstore (being the Ravenclaw she was). Jon saw some interesting titles about Defensive magic, but did not buy any as he was pretty certain that he had memorized just about every spell they offered. Sansa was perusing the Charms and Transfiguration section, which mad Jon smile. 

“You know I can just help you with anything? You don’t need to buy out the whole store,” said Jon as he came closer to Sansa.

“You know all about Animagus training and the theorem of human transformations?” asked Sansa in wonder. 

“Er... not in so many words,” said Jon lamely, “but I know a bloke who was an Animagus and he gave me a bit of training on it.” He then gave Sansa a funny look. “Why are you interested in Animagus training anyway?” 

Sansa’s face turned as red as her hair, which she tucked a strand of behind her ear. “Professor Shae has agreed to teach me to become an Animagus,” she mumbled.

Jon’s eyebrows shot up. “Really? Why?” he asked.

“I don’t know really, I just reckon it’d be really cool to be an animal,” said Sansa.

“It is,” said Jon quietly, and then cursed himself when he saw Sansa look at him in surprise. 

“You’re an animagus?” she whispered harshly, so that nobody else in the store could hear. 

“I didn’t say that,” began Jon. 

“What can you turn into?” Sansa said, ignoring his deflection and looking at him excitedly. Jon looked around, making sure nobody was eavesdropping. Just to be sure, Jon cast a privacy spell around them before he answered. 

“A shadowcat,” he answered. 

“Really?!” exclaimed Sansa. Jon flinched from the volume of Sansa’s voice, even though he knew nobody could hear them talking. 

“Don’t tell anybody please!” said Jon quickly, hoping to ward off Sansa’s excitement. 

“I won’t, I promise,” swore Sansa, and Jon sighed in relief. 

Not many people knew of Jon’s Animagus form, even within the Night’s Watch. Varamyr had taught him to transform into his Animagus form much easier than most Animagus learnt, mainly because he learned from being a warg. Being an Animagus, especially a shadowcat Animagus, made Jon an excellent spy in the snowy climate, where shadowcats were found. 

“Can you at least help me?” asked Sansa. 

“I’ll try. But it will be difficult,” said Jon.

“Professor Shae already said that to me, don’t worry,” said Sansa, a smirk playing on her lips.

Jon only sighed and removed the privacy charm, then once Sansa had bought her books, they left and headed towards Zonko’s. Jon wasn’t much of a prankster, and Sansa even less so, but he had promised Rickon that he would buy the youngest Stark some Dung Bombs for him to prank his roommates with, not that Jon told Sansa that. While the two friends looked around the joke shop, Sansa would whisper questions in Jon’s ear about Animagus training, and Jon would try his best to answer, but he still felt really uncomfortable that she knew one of his secrets. But that was a good thing right? He did promise the Starks that he would eventually tell them everything. But so soon?

When Jon’s stomach rumbled, Sansa jokingly suggested that they finally go to the Three Broomsticks to grab something to eat (or rather, drink), and Jon agreed before leading the way to the cozy bar.  On the way there, Jon noticed that the temperature was beginning to drop and the wind was blowing a little harder, but he paid it no mind when Sansa grabbed his arm and pulled him inside.

The Three Broomsticks was as crowded as ever when Jon and Sansa went inside. Students, teachers and the locals were all gathered inside socializing or drinking the best Butterbeer in the United Kingdom, and the atmosphere set Jon’s constant nervousness at ease. He looked around the bar, taking note of all the familiar faces. Daenerys was sitting with some of her Slytherin buddies, and she waved out to him when they locked eyes, and Jon returned the gesture. Sam was sitting in a corner with Gilly, pressed closely together in a way that made Jon smile to see his friend so in love, but at the same time sent a pang of pain through his chest.

Jon and Sansa said their hellos to other students and some teachers as they made their way to the bar.

Madame Melisandre, the barkeep, was a voluptuous woman with blood-red hair and pale skin. She was undeniably beautiful, and she knew it as well and used it to get just about whatever she wanted from the lustful men that frequented her bar. Fortunately, Jon had always been immune to the Red Woman’s charms, and he politely ordered two Butterbeers for himself and Sansa. 

When Melisandre handed him the two hot mugs, Jon smiled and made his way over to Sansa, who had managed to secure a table for just the two of them. 

“Thanks,” said Sansa when Jon handed her one of the mugs. Jon sat down in the chair opposite her and watched as Sansa took a sip, watching as her eyes fluttered closed and she let out a sigh of content.

“So...” said Jon, trying to break the awkward silence as well as stop himself from staring at Sansa for too long. _The fuck is wrong with you?_

“How’s life back at school?” asked Sansa. 

“Boring,” said Jon. “But a good kind of boring. I don’t have to worry about anything except for my exams.” 

“Must be fun,” commented Sansa, peering over her mug to stare at Jon. 

“It’s a different pace to what I’m used to,” said Jon. “What about you? How have you been?” 

“I’m doing alright,” said Sansa. “This year is a lot easier than last year. I don’t have to worry about OWL’s or NEWT’s for a while, but I’m still pretty serious about my studies.” 

“Aye, you wouldn’t be in Ravenclaw if you weren’t,” joked Jon, lifting his mug up to take a long draught of his Butterbeer.

“Very funny Jon,” drawled Sansa, but he could tell that she was joking by the smile that was on her lips. “I just wish Joffrey would leave me alone,” she said more quietly. 

“Why does he constantly harass you?” asked Jon. “You broke up with him, didn’t you?” 

“Yeah, but Joffrey’s always had an inflated ego. I think he thinks he has something to prove to himself because he wasn’t the one who broke things off,” said Sansa with a shrug. 

“He’s a bloody creep,” muttered Jon darkly. 

“You don’t hear me arguing,” said Sansa, then she shivered slightly. “It’s getting colder.” 

Jon frowned and finished his mug before standing up and going towards one of the windows. Outside, the wind was blowing harder now, and he could merely make out the shapes of people from all the snow that was falling. Something about the change in weather was making the hair on the back of Jon’s neck stand up, and he was feeling the tension. 

“Jon? Are you alright?” Sansa had come up behind him, and when Jon turned away from the window, she was looking at him worriedly. 

“Something’s not right,” he said. 

“What do you mean?” asked Sansa. 

“The weather. This is unnatural, especially for the middle of October. I haven’t seen this since...” Jon’s voice trailed off and he looked at Sansa in horror. “We have to get everyone back to Hogwarts now,” said Jon forcefully. When Sansa hesitated, he yelled, “NOW!” 

His voice drew a few odd stares and Jon used that to his advantage.  “You all need to get back to the castle now!”

“What are you talking about boy?” demanded a rough-looking man who looked a little too into his cups .

“The weather...” 

“ Aye the weather’s odd for October, now shut up and leave the rest of us in peace!” growled the man, and there were numerous mutterings and nods of approval at the man’s words.

“You don’t understand! It means-” Jon’s words were cut off when a plump witch burst through the front door of the Three Broomsticks looking ragged and breathing heavily.

“WIGHTS! WIGHTS IN HOGSMEADE!” she screeched before collapsing onto the wooden floor. 

There was a split second of silence in the bar before chaos erupted. People started screaming and pushing each other out of the way to get to the door, but Jon stood in the way and drew his wand. 

“If you go out there you’ll get cut down,” growled Jon, and the crowd backed away from his pointed wand. Once he was certain that nobody would try to force their past Jon and end up getting stunned for it, Jon muttered, _“Accio Longclaw.”_

He looked around the bar, seeing that everyone’s attention was on him, and he cleared his throat. “Alright. The White Walkers are here, and if you go outside in that snow storm you’ll get cut down before you can say ‘Quidditch’. We have to defend this place so I want everyone who knows how to fight to have your wands...” 

Jon’s words were drowned out when something let out a terrifying shriek that seemed to make the temperature drop even more. The sound was accompanied by more screaming, and when Jon moved back to look out the window, he could see people running away. He saw a shape pounce on somebody that had fallen over, followed by a sickening sound of screaming and tearing of flesh. When the shape had finished butchering the poor person, it looked up with glowing blue eyes to stare directly at Jon.

“Fuck,” swore Jon. “Barricade the doors and windows!” 

Professors Jhogo and Cassel were quick to respond, and with a flick of their wands, several tables and chairs flew over to stack against the front door and windows as a barricade. Just in time too, because as soon as the last table was placed, something smacked against the door, followed by a screech. 

“Here, take this,” said Jon, handing the two teachers an obsidian dagger each. “These will kill them instantly.” 

The two professors didn’t have time to question Jon’s knowledge on wights, because the next second a wight launched itself through one of the smaller windows that was not blocked off, and with a shattering of glass, it jumped inside. The wight jumped up onto its feet, seeming to survey its potential prey. It looked like it had been rotting for several months now; its flesh had almost completely rotted away, its clothing torn and ragged and its jawbone was hanging by one joint. It shrieked and ran towards a terrified third-year, who was closest to it.

The wight did not manage to reach the kid fortunately, because at the last second a whip of fire wrapped around its arm and was yanked to the side. Jon twisted his wand, bidding the flame whip to wrap around the wight to secure it tightly. The smell of burning flesh filled the air, and with another twist of Jon’s wand, the whip flared brighter and brighter until the wight had been incinerated to ash.

“Oh shit!” yelled somebody, just as a sword sheathed in black leather flew through the hole the wight had created and landed in Jon’s outstretched arms. Jon grinned as he drew the Valyrian steel blade of Longclaw and promptly used it to cut the head off another wight that had tried to enter through the window. 

Other people were firing curses and hexes at the encroaching army of wights, and Jon felt a swell in his chest to see Sansa at the front leading the effort. Jon stayed by the window, cutting down any undead creature that tried to come his way until soon there was a pile of bodies at his feet. Jon turned around when somebody screamed, and to his horror he saw a wight forcing itself through the roof of the building. He fired off a Bludgeoning Hex that sent the undead monster flying out of the hole it had created, but it was quickly replaced by three more of its brethren. 

“We’re getting swarmed!” shouted Professor Cassel just as he stabbed a wight in the chest with the obsidian dagger Jon had given him. The Defence teacher’s observation seemed to be correct; no matter how many wights were cut down, more kept coming from all directions.

“Fuck this, we have to get out of here,” swore Jon. “I’m going to cast a Blasting Hex at the door to clear a way out. The wights will be dazed for a little bit, and I’m going to distract them while you and Professor Jhogo get everyone back to Hogwarts.” 

“I can’t allow you to do that Mr Snow,” said Professor Cassel. 

“Sir, I’ve been fighting these things for two bloody years. I know how to deal with them,” snapped Jon, and he ignored the surprised look he saw from Sansa. “Now hurry up and wait for me to clear a path!” Jon pushed his way to the door, and pointed his wand at the mess of chairs and tables. _“BOMBARDA!”_ he bellowed. 

Splintered wood, snow and bodies all were sent flying under Jon’s spell, and he stepped outside to cut down the straggling wights with Longclaw. 

“Hurry!” he urged, and the teachers began to lead the way back to the castle, a trail of students and Hogsmeade locals trailing after them. Outside, Jon could see the damage the White Walker army had done to the village. Buildings were on fire, sending smoke up into the air like an ominous cloud of doom. Spells were being fired everywhere, most of them missing their targets. The sounds of screaming were carried by the wind like the call of a banshee, but it felt even more horrible to Jon. He spotted Robb, his hand clutching Jeyne’s tightly and his wand drawn sprinting towards them. 

“Where have you been?!” yelled Jon. 

“Zonko’s. We barely managed to get out before-” Robb’s voice was cut off when the joke store exploded in a spectacular manner, knocking over those who were too close to the floor. 

“Go back to the castle,” ordered Jon. 

“I’m not bloody leaving you!” retorted Robb angrily. 

Sansa came up to stand beside Jon then. “The Three Broomsticks is cleared,” she said. 

“Good,” said Jon. Then he turned back to Robb and Jeyne. “Have you seen any White Walkers?” 

Robb shook his head, but Jeyne pointed towards the back of the village near the train station and said, “I saw two hooded guys with white masks over there!” 

“Okay. I’m going to go kill them, you guys make sure you get back to Hogwarts safely,” he said. 

“We’re going with you!” protested Sansa. 

“You’re our friend!” added Robb. Just then a massive white wolf appeared from a copse of trees and tackled a wight that had been charging at them, then tore it to pieces.

“Bloody hell!” gasped Robb, and he pushed Jeyne behind him protectively.

“About time Ghost!” snapped Jon to the wolf, and the great beast merely rolled its eyes at his master.

“That thing is yours?” exclaimed Sansa. 

“Yep,” was all Jon said, before he leapt up onto the direwolf’s back, riding it like a horse. “Try and find Arya if you can, and get everyone to safety!” was all he said before Ghost took off towards the train station, Jon atop of him like a medieval knight.

Jon cut down wights on all sides with Longclaw like carving a cake, while Ghost ripped apart any that got in his way with terrifying ferocity. With his wand, Jon set fire to a swarm of wights and they fell to the ground screaming, the heat making steam rise up around them. Jon was in his element, killing undead monsters with a sword and magic. It was what he was best at and he hated it usually, but right now he did not care. 

Suddenly Jon was knocked off of Ghost by a Bludgeoning Hex, and he fell into the snow. Ghost wheeled around and tried to come to the aid of his master, but was cut off by a group of wights. Jon gasped in pain. He wasn’t holding his wand anymore, and Longclaw felt too heavy to lift with his sore shoulder. 

He lifted his head to see a tall figure, clad in the icy blue robes of the White Walkers, the Night King’s loyal followers coming towards him. Because of the white mask that covered the Dark wizard’s face, Jon couldn’t see who it was that was coming towards him. Underneath the White Walker’s robes, a sword of magical ice that could shatter steel like glass with a mere touch was strapped to his waist, but the wizard did not draw it out.

_“Crucio!_ ” shouted the White Walker, and Jon was barely able to bring Longclaw up in time to destroy the curse before it struck him. Valyrian steel was the only known defence against the Unforgivables, but because it was so rare it couldn’t really be counted as a good defence.

The man screamed the Cruciatus again, but Jon was not able to bring Longclaw up and the curse struck his chest. It felt as though somebody was digging white-hot knives into every part of his body, setting his nerves on fire. His body shook uncontrollably and he let out an ear-piercing scream of agony while the White Walker laughed at his torture.

“I think that’s enough White Wolf,” mocked the Dark Wizard, and Jon felt the Cruciatus’ effects leave him, though his body still twitched in random spasms because of his frayed nerves. Jon managed to lift his head up painfully just as the man removed his mask, and Jon saw the familiar face of Ramsey Bolton smiling maniacally down at him. 

“How are you?” asked Ramsey mockingly. 

“Doing great, how about you bastard?” said Jon with a grimace. Ramsey’s eye twitched at the insult, but other than that he gave no indication that Jon’s insult affected him.

“I’ve been meaning to meet you for a long time now,” said Ramsey, taking a few steps toward Jon before crouching. “You’ve caused my master a great deal of trouble. He wants you for himself, but I’m sure he won’t mind if I have a bit of a play with you first.” 

“Huh, never took you for a guy who prefers men,” taunted Jon, and he earned a hard slap in the face for it. 

“Manners White Wolf, manners,” said Ramsey disappointingly. He then conjured a long, jagged knife with his wand and dug the tip of the blade into Jon’s shoulder, making him wince. “Let’s see. Where should we begin hm? Your body, or your face?”

Just as Ramsey lifted the knife high into the air, a blue curse struck the malevolent White Walker in the shoulder, sending him flying away from Jon and collapsed in a heap. Jon picked himself off the ground, using Longclaw as a crutch and turned around to see Sansa running towards him, wand pointed outwards and a blazing look in her eyes.

_“Reducto!”_ shouted Sansa when Ramsey tried to get up, and the curse struck the ground at his feet, knocking him away further. Jon found his wand and was able to deflect a curse shot from a second White Walker, and soon the four combatants were engaged in a fierce duel. 

Jon held his own easily despite having been put under the Cruciatus Curse for an extended period of time, but he was surprised to see Sansa doing so well as well. She fired off curses with such rage pouring into her spells that the White Walker she was dueling was taking a few steps back.

Ramsey was looking downright murderous as Jon fought him, but it was obvious to the Dark wizard that Jon was the superior fighter. Suddenly to his right Sansa screamed and she fell to the ground writhing in agony from the Torture Curse. 

“NO!” bellowed Jon, and sent a row of Slicing Curses the White Walker’s way. Ramsey ducked in time to avoid the curses, but his partner was not so lucky, and on of them struck his throat, splattering blood everywhere. The man fell to his knees, making horrific gurgling noises before he keeled over, having choked to death on his own blood. 

Ramsey glared evilly at Jon before he Disapparated, but Jon remained alert for any more dangers. With their master’s death/disappearance, the wights all exploded as their enchantment that reanimated them was lifted. 

Sansa whimpered next to Jon, and the dark-haired boy crouched down to pick her up carefully.

“It’s alright Sansa, I got you,” said Jon quietly, and without another word he sprinted as fast as he could back to the school. Ghost suddenly came up beside Jon and nudged him before turning his shaggy white head towards his back. Jon quickly got the message and as gently as he could, lifted himself up while still carrying Sansa onto the direwolf’s back, and with a mental command, Ghost shot off towards Hogwarts at breakneck speed. 

As they passed through the wrecked village, Jon saw that Aurors had arrived and were beginning the repairs of the destroyed buildings. Some of the Aurors were levitating body bags, and Jon felt a little queasy. He spotted Ned Stark, who was the Head Auror in the Ministry’s Department of Magical Law Enforcement briefly, but Ghost was moving too fast for Jon to stop and speak to him. 

There were several screams of fright from students as they saw the enormous white wolf run into the Hogwarts’ courtyard, but Jon did not care as he slid off Ghost’s back and marched into the castle towards the hospital wing. He wasn’t even aware that Ghost was following him, all he cared about was making sure that Sansa would be looked after by Healer Luwin. To his dismay, when Jon opened the hospital wing doors he found it bustling with activity as people were treated by not just Healer Luwin, but by numerous other Healers who had probably Floo’d in from St Mungo’s. 

“Somebody help!” Jon called out desperately, and when one of the healers came and levitated Sansa onto a bed, Jon felt the fight leave his body and he collapsed to his knees. Ghost nudged Jon affectionately, worried for his master’s health, and Jon used his wolf’s body to pull himself up and use him as support to walk over towards Sansa.

“What happened to her?” asked the healer.

“Cruciatus,” answered Jon, and the healer’s face darkened before he nodded and pulled out some potions. 

“What’s that?” asked Jon. 

“Pain-Relief, Calming and some Nerve Repair potions,” said the healer. 

“Oh, right,” said Jon. 

“He got hit by the Cruciatus too,” said Sansa weakly. 

“We’ll have to put you in a bed too,” said the healer.

“I wasn’t under the curse as long as her,” snapped Jon. “Besides, it’s not the first time for me.” 

The healer gave Jon a concerned look, but said nothing and handed him a Nerve Repairing Potion, which Jon drank quickly and shuddered when the potion began working. 

“Ahem,” said a voice from behind Jon. He turned in his chair to see Robb, Arya, Bran, Sam and Theon all looking at Jon expectantly. 

“Alright, spill,” ordered Arya.

_ Oh, fuck. _

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed the first chapter! Comments are welcome!


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